Date: Sat, 14 Dec 2013 20:21:34 -0500 (EST)
From: Milford Slabaugh
Subject: Santa's Workshop
SANTA'S WORKSHOP
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Bombel was singing as he hopped out of his shower and got dressed in
his very best elf suit, green short pants, red-and-white-striped socks, a
green jerkin over a red knit shirt and his green shoes and green hat with a
white bird's feather. Stood and looked at himself and said, "Bombel, you
look just the part for your first day in Santa's Workshop!" He had just
turned the minimum age for an elf to work in Santa's Workshop, he was now
officially an adult elf of one hundred and twenty-one years, or as it was
known among elves, he was "eleventy-eleven" at last!
And right on time, his mother called out, "Bombel, your breakfast is
ready! Come hurry, you don't want to be late your first day on the job!"
"Yes, mother!" Bomdel was more than happy to eat the bowl of oatmeal
his mother made, it warmed his stomach and made him feel all was right with
the world. And sure enough, he got to Santa's Workshop just as the other
elves arrived, and he was able to stand in line and be checked in by
Nismod, the Chief Elf. "Bombel. Yes, congratulations on your first day on
the job. Christmas is less than a month away now, so we'll need you to be
on your best behavior, pay attention to what you're doing and when in doubt
about what to do, ask the other elves. I'll put you on an easy assignment
to start with, assembling baby dolls, and if you prove yourself on that,
I'll move you up to toy trains in no time. Now, on your way, Table Twelve."
"Yes, sir!" Bombel scampered on to Table Twelve. This was an easy job,
the arms and legs and bodies and heads were in boxes, all he had to do was
put the arms and legs and a head on, pull a white dress and socks on the
feet and a bonnet on the head. Then it would go into the small plastic
bassinet for wrapping, packing and shipping. This was a busy table for baby
dolls were one of Santa's most popular toys, every little girl either
wanted one or wanted another one every Christmas. And as his hands were
kept busy, his mind was kept occupied by the other elves, they sang songs,
talked, joked, told stories, all of this was fine as long as they kept on
making toys. Bombel managed to put in a very good day of work and went home
tired but happy.
But day followed day and as Christmas got closer, the elves were asked
to work longer hours to make the toys that were being asked for by children
all over the world. Bombel was busier than ever, for as he became adept at
his task and could make more dolls, the other elves were taken away to do
other tasks, leaving Bombel to take up their slack. As day followed day,
the drive was for more dolls, more, more! The machine that made the
individual parts ran night and day and Bombel was working twelve hours a
day, fourteen hours a day, sixteen hours a day, to keep up. He barely had
time to stagger home, eat a quick meal his mother had left for him in the
kitchen, bathe and fall into bed. The next day, he would rise, dress, eat
breakfast and rush to the job to make more dolls, more, more, more!
Well, an elf at the North Pole expects to work hard at Christmas time
and he was young enough to endure it. And then, after Christmas Eve was
done all over the world, he'd have an entire week to rest up before coming
back to work to get a head-start on the toys for next year.
Yes, Bombel could handle the work and the shortness of sleep. But he
was facing one other problem. He was a young elf and had the normal drives
of any elf at that age. But he was so busy at the workshop every day, he
was too tired at the end of every day to even think of using his hand to
relieve the pressures. In the morning, he could only stagger out of bed and
dress and gulp the oatmeal his mother made and race to the workshop again.
It literally left no time for him to scratch, especially the kind of
"scratch" that would take care of his aching elven testicles!
Christmas was approaching fast and the high-tech jobs were taking most
of the elves out of their traditional workshop to assemble the components
of video game systems and such. It was now only Bombel and one of the
oldest elves in the workshop, old Davner, working on assembling the baby
dolls now. Davner was nearly at the age when he would stop making toys
altogether, he would retire soon to spend the rest of his days relaxing
with other elves his age by the fire, drinking warm grog and reminiscing
about Christmases past.
So Bombel braced himself to speak with old Davner about his
troubles. He was struggling with phrasing it when old Davner himself opened
the door to the talk. "You're being awfully quiet today, young
Bombel. Happy talk makes the time pass quicker, you know, but any talk is
better than none at all. What is troubling you, young elf?"
Bombel managed a smile. "The same thing that troubled you when you
were my age, no doubt."
"My first Christmas in the Workshop. Yes." Old Davner did seem to
understand. "All your day is taken up with work and your night with sleep
and you're wondering what to do."
"Yes, yes!" Bombel agreed, nearly in tears. Someone else did
understand! "What do I do?"
"The same thing elves have done during Christmas ever since we started
things, back when I was a child, over a thousand years ago." Davner
said. "You wait for one of your break times and when it comes, instead of
going into the break room for cocoa and cookies, you go through that door
over there." Old Davner indicated a door that Bombel had noticed but never
had a chance to check out, unlike most rooms in the workshop, it held no
sign telling what lay behind it.
"What's in that room?"
"Toys, of course." Old Davner only paused for a second, then
continued. "Toys that elves have been designing and perfecting for a
thousand years. Not toys for children, oh, my, no! Toys for elves like you,
who need some help through this busy time of year."
And that was all Old Davner would say about it. Bombel puzzled over it
for the hour until his next break time came along. The elves would stagger
their breaks this time of year to keep the toy production going, but these
breaks, four every day, were times for them to get a drink, eat something,
rest and other personal things. Bombel would normally eat during this
break, but the urge of his loins was a hunger much more urgent, he would
eat during his afternoon break. He waited for the clock to chime the hour
and then quickly abandoned his station. Old Davner smiled tolerantly, the
smile of a man who remembered all too well the urges that drove a young
man, even if his own urges had mellowed and dwindled with the centuries.
Another elf was headed for the same room and Bombel said as soon as
they got into the door. "This is my first time here. What do I do?"
"Take off your shoes and pants only. Then just find an empty toy to
use."
The explanation was still cryptic to Bombel but he could certainly
handle the instructions now and find out the details later. His shoes
slipped off and his pantaloons were as easy to remove. Bare below the waist
except for his socks, Bombel hung his pants up on hooks that were there for
that purpose, and followed the other elf into the main part of the other
room. "Wow!" was all he could say when he saw the toys in that room!
Elves love toys, of course, and Bombel was an ordinary elf. But until
then, it had never occurred to him that the toys could love him too!
"Hurry up, pick a toy and get in place!" the other elf encouraged
Bombel. "You have to be finished before your break is over."
No time to look around, then! Bombel looked around hastily and...over
there! Perfect! He scurried over and up to the toy! As for "getting in
place," the position was obvious. He stepped up and slid his feet into the
stirrups that hung from either side of the gigantic toy.
A gigantic toy that any young boy of the last century would recognize
in no time. An enormous toy soldier, with a high cylindrical hat with
ostrich feather held on by a strap under the chin, the red uniform with
golden epaulets and brass buttons in double rows, the tight white trousers
with a black stripe down the outside of each leg over high black boots. The
difference between the toy soldiers they gave to children and this one
(besides the fact he was some six foot five inches tall) was the fact that
this soldier's trousers were open and held a substantial erect prong
extruding from it. Bombel, by stepping his feet into the stirrups, was just
able to lever his butt over the organ and a wriggle of his hips matched it
up with his ass.
Once he had it firmly inserted inside himself, his arms around the
masculine waist, it was only a matter of locating and throwing the switch
in the soldier's back. And the soldier began to move, slowly at first but
increasing in speed as the clockwork inside began to move more smoothly.
Bombel closed his eyes and crooned as the soldier's thick, strong dick
began to slide in and out of his ass, the hips of the soldier bobbing back
and forth in a way that moved the cock perfectly. Ah, yes, this was just
what he'd been needing! All the stress and overwork he'd been enduring was
suddenly like nothing, if he could slide back in here every day (or twice
maybe) and ride this dong.
"Bombel?" came the stern voice.
"Nismod?" Bombel gasped. He had been caught in here by the Chief Elf!
"I...I'm on my break, sir!"
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Sir, I...I thought this is what we were supposed to do in here!"
Nismod looked at him wide-eyed and then started laughing. "I didn't
mean that, Bombel! Why, I visit that one over there (a teddy-bear figure,
otherwise jointed like the soldier) at least twice a week during this
period. I mean, don't you know you have to wind them up first?"
"I...I guess I forgot!" Bombel was still being fucked by the soldier.
"Let me do that for you this time." Nismod said. "You're shaping up
into a proper elf, no reason you shouldn't enjoy the little perks our
workshop can provide like no other!"
"Oh! Oh! Thank you, sir!" Bombel was still getting a pretty good fuck,
on what must have been the left-over winding of the prior user of this
soldier's dick.
But when Nismod wound up the soldier, Bombel knew the real joy of
being one of Santa's elves! The clockwork shifted into high gear, he was
being butt-fucked at a rapid pace. The soldier had him moaning as the shaft
plunged in and out of his tight little elven butt with a speed that was
driving him wild.
"That's a good ride you chose for your first time." Nismod said as he
watched Bombel being rammed by the toy soldier. "The elf who built that
soldier was one of our master clockwork makers."
"Yes, uh, uh, uh!" Bombel panted.
"Enjoy your ride, young Bombel." And Nismod finally, thankfully, moved
on, leaving Bombel with his toy soldier and his joy.
Alone and basically ignored (the other elves had all found their own
"rides" for this break by now), Bombel gave himself totally to his
fantasy. His own face was well below the soldier's own face even in his
elevated position, but he stretched up and just could kiss the toy
soldier's chin with his lips. Bombel closed his eyes and dreamed that this
toy soldier was actually alive, was panting and breathing and gasping in
his ear as it fucked him. If only it were so, if only it were so! There
would be no better toy for him to have but this toy soldier, alive in the
way that meant the most to him at his own age of newly adult, to be warm
and alive and in his bed with him! If only it were so!
Bombel's pleasure rose in him like a gently rising bath rises in the
tub as the water is poured in, rising until it covered his lower body, then
crept up, up, up!
"Oh, oh, yes, yes, my toy soldier, my toy soldier!" Bombel cried out
in his ecstasy. He was far from the only elf crying out so, none paid him
any heed in that room of elves finding their pleasure in the short rest in
making toys to pleasure themselves with toys crafted with clever elven
hands, then to return to the work floor refreshed and ready to make more
toys, more and more, for all the children of the world! "Fuck me, fuck me
harder, faster, faster!"
But of course the soldier couldn't but the clockwork kept up its
steady unwinding, and the soldier kept on ramming Bombel's butt as his
ecstasy grew and grew and grew!
"Oh, oh, I'm coming, I'm coming, Mr. Toy Soldier!" Bombel cried out as
his climax rose within him. "Here it comes, here it comes, oh, oh, OH, OH,
OH, OH, OHHHHHH!"
Bombel's spunk splattered the toy soldier's bright red uniform as he
came, hot splashes of jizz that flew all over the red and gold-colored
cuttons, and the soldier's face never changed, but Bombel's fantasy caused
the soldier's face to crease in joy and then to cry out in his own orgasm,
and Bombel's dreams filled his ass with come as the toy soldier rammed and
rammed his butt, and he came and came and finished and held onto the
soldier's body, gasping in his spent joy and he felt the soldier's breast
against his cheek as if it rose up and down, back and forth.
"Oh, Mr. Toy Soldier, that was so good, so good!" Bombel panted.
"Are you done, Bombel?" one of the elves walking by him on the way
back to the rack where their pants were hung asked him. "Hurry up, break
time is over! Time to get back to work, only ten days left until Christmas
Eve, you know!"
"I know!" Bombel regretfully threw the switch on the soldier's body to
the "off" position and the toy soldier slowed and stopped, frozen with an
eternally genial smile and Bombel on impulse kissed the soldier on its
lips. "Thank you, Mr. Toy Soldier. You were wonderful!"
And he pulled himself off the soldier's cock and stepped down from the
perch of the stirrups. With a sigh, he pulled his pants back on, drew on
his shoes, and returned to the table and began to make baby dolls again. He
was able to sing like he hadn't in days and told innumerable jokes that
kept Old Davner and the other nearby elves in stitches. And Bombel returned
on his very next break to the room and again rode the soldier's cock to
another joyful climax.
Christmas came as it always did and Bombel worked nearly nonstop with
the other elves to keep Santa's bags filled and labeled and ready for his
next trip. Finally, though, the gifts for the Aleutian Islands and Hawaii
were packed and ready for Santa and Bombel could finally, finally, go home
and rest, knowing that he could sleep as long as he wished and none would
disturb him, for he was on a full week's rest now, no more work for him at
all until the New Year.
No more toy soldier ride on his rest breaks either for that week. But
he could use his hand again, he wouldn't need to rush it when his body did
desire release. Still, that thought vaguely depressed him. Maybe he could
slip into the workshop now deserted for a quick ride or two during this
week....
But after only twelve hours of blissful oblivion, Bombel found his
mother waking him and asking him to deliver a package to one of her
friends. The friend invited him in though he tried to beg off, set him down
at her table and proceeded to monopolize his time for over an hour. He
finally got away, feeling like he was escaping from a prison!
Bombel's mother kissed his cheek when he came back. "Thank you for
doing that, dear."
"I don't see why you didn't do it yourself." Bombel said rather
ungraciously.
"If I hadn't," his mother said slyly, "how would your friends have
managed to bring over the surprise for you?"
"Surprise?"
"When you go back to work, they're putting you in the mechanical toys
section. Nismod himself said you seemed to have some good ideas for them to
try out there."
"Well, yes, I do." Bombel admitted. "Will I really be allowed to work
on them in future?"
"Yes you will. Still working only in assembly, but you'll have time to
work on your own ideas once you make the daily quota each day. Nismod said
he felt sure you could do that easily and he brought over the gift for you,
a Christmas gift from your co-workers, he said. Also, he said he felt it
would give you lots of inspiration in your new job."
"Yes, yes!"
"So go to your room and see what they brought you."
Bombel ran into his room and saw the gift from his co-workers and
gasped out in pleasure and surprise. And ran to hug his present.
The toy soldier. His now, and forever and ever!
THE END
Comments, complaints or suggestions?
E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM